I am the owl, the owl of love. At night, I suck it in, I suck it in. By the day, the startled morn, I breathe it out again. Alone on the branch, the owl of love, with the stars and the moon and the moon over cloud. I take in the souls of the minds of the world and sift out the weeds from the few. Breathing it in, breathing it out, over again and again and again. I am speckled like the hare, I may not breathe again. Alone on a branch, holding it in, I sift through the minds and the souls of the world. I am shattered by the calm. I may not breathe again.